Bartenders Really Do Listen
by The Werewolf Mage
Summary: A conversation between a drunk Gen and Aberforth one night in an otherwise empty Hog's Head.


Title: Bartenders Really Do Listen

Summary: A conversation between a drunk Gen and Aberforth one night in an otherwise empty Hog's Head.

Note: Heh, I was going to do a one-shot about Sirius Junior, the now-not-so-baby-bunny. But it's all wet and rainy so I figured might as well go along with the weather. And I couldn't think of a title, so sue me.

Aberforth Dumbledore was paying no attention to his empty pub, shifting through the glasses, looking for ones he had not cleaned yet. It was such a slow night, he figured he may as well close the pub for the evening.

"Are you going to clean those all night, or are you going to share?"

He hadn't noticed her come in,so he was slightly startled when she spoke. "Oh, you again?" he asked, sliding a glass her way. "What do you want?"

Gen smiled shyly and said, "The strongest whatever you have and keep it coming. It's been a rough day."

"All your days seem to be rough." he muttered. "You really shouldn't drink like you do. You're way too young for it."

"Your job isn't to tell me that. Your job is to give me my damn drink." she snapped.

"But I can refuse to sell you drinks." he countered, pausing as he reached for a dark bottle on one of the higher shelves. "What do you have to say about that, missy?"

"You can't stop me from going to other pubs." she murmured, watching as he poured her drink. "But I'd rather have the quietness of The Hog's Head than the loud, perverted mob that you get at The Three Broomsticks."

"You're just saying that so I'll let you stay here." he smirked, leaning against the bar. "So, what's on your mind? You and I both know that."

Gen groaned inwardly and downed her drink in a flash. "What do you think? You offer the most sympathetic ear. All these other bartenders don't even pay anyone any mind."

Aberforth pulled an expression behind her back. He, as it turns out, figured no one would want to talk to him, since the whole goat incident. But that one, she was in the pub three or four nights a week, usually sobbing her heart out at the last seat of the bar.

Gen brushed her hair out of her face, and, avoiding his gaze, asked him to pour her another glass. She knew he had told Dumbledore that she kept going in there and drinking until he made her go home, but she did not really care what Dumbledore thought of her.

Still avoiding his gaze, she muttered, "You know, I don't even know why I bother."

"What, this... friend of yours?"

"Mm-hmm." she muttered. "I mean, I'm – I'm... what am I again?" she asked.

"I think that's a little too strong for you." Aberforth chuckled.

"But I like it!" she whined. She did not notice him roll his eyes. "Where was I? Oh yeah. No respect, mate. I mean, I let him stay with me. And all I get is grief! It's unfair!" she said, ending with a wail.

"Why let him stay with you, then?" Aberforth asked, placing the bottle next to her and returning to his glasses. "Besides the fact that you adore him, as you've told me before?"

"I have my reasons." she replied, ending with a hiccup. "'Sides, you don't have to know everything. Just everything I let slip."

Aberforth groaned inwardly, telling himself that he would definitely have to cut her off soon. It was a few seconds before he realized she was still prattling on, oblivious to the fact that he was not paying her any attention.

Gen sighed sadly and rested her chin on her hand, staring at the bar. "He says it's him." she murmured.

"But you think it's you, right?"

"I bet anything it's me." she sniffled. "All I get is the same excuses over and over."

"Aye. Sounds like he doesn't really care about you."

"That's what I thought, too." she muttered. "But he gets really mad at me when I come home drunk. So, that means he cares at least a little bit, right?" she asked.

Aberforth, who honestly did not know how to answer this, shrugged. If he said "Yes" it would give her false hope. And a "No" would result in more drinking and sobbing.

But she did not want to hear his answer. "You got anymore of this?"

"You drank that whole bottle?"

"It was half empty!" she argued. At the look on his face, though, she sighed and slid off her stool. "You want me to leave, don't you?"

"I think you've had enough." he answered simply.

"I don't think I have." she countered. "But I'll go home so you can close."

"Thank you." Aberforth muttered. "You'll be back tomorrow, won't you?"

"Probably."


End file.
